


Swings, Emotions & Cheap Vodka

by twistedthingsandchocolate



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angsty fluff ensues, Could be read as platonic if you squint really hard, Eggsy runs off and indulges in cheap vodka and a fag, F-bombs are dropped, Gen, Harry Hart Lives, I know fuck-all about being drunk and smoking so it's barely there tbh, M/M, Not beta'd or britpicked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:37:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedthingsandchocolate/pseuds/twistedthingsandchocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To be fair, they both really should've seen it coming.</p><p>After all, the hero always comes back to their loved ones in the end, don't they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swings, Emotions & Cheap Vodka

To be fair, he really should have seen it coming.

  
He and his mates had seen enough crappy movies on the telly to know that, when you don't see a body, there's usually something fishy going on. Either the dead guy is a zombie, the killer or he's alive, that's how it always goes in movies like those. Even James Bond had pulled that trick once or twice by now, so it shouldn't have been a such a surprise when he learned that Harry _fuckin'_ Hart did it too.

  
And yet, when the bastard turned up in the Kingsman HQ, posh and proper as always 'cept for a minor scar on his temple, where the poorly aimed bullet had graced him - _fuckin' graced him, really?_ \- he still felt nailed to the spot like a deer caught in the headlights.

  
He'd saved the world for this man, his mentor, father-figure, whatever the fuck you could call this weird infatuation of his, and done so believing he was making it up to Harry for being a disappointment the last time they spoke to eachother, to honor the man in the only way he still could.

  
And now Harry _fuckin'_ Hart had the balls to stand there, and looked like _he_ owed _Eggsy_ an apology.  


He was bloody fuckin' lucky Eggsy didn't have it in him to move, or he'd have punched that look right off his stupid face.  


"Eggsy, I believe we have a lot we need to discuss."  


No fuckin' shit, mate. There were so many things Eggsy wanted to say to Harry _fuckin'_ Hart in that moment, so many conflicting thoughts and feelings clashing within his mind that it was all he could do not to break down into hysterics. He really should have seen this shit coming, shouldn't he?  


"Eggsy?"

  
Having Harry _fuckin'_ Hart look at him like that, like he was as delicate as those poncy porcelain teacups he knew the man owned, like he was a skittish animal that needed to be handled with care lest he make a break for it, made Eggsy want to scream. The young man's jaw was clenched tight enough to hurt, his stance was rigid and his nails were digging tiny, bleeding crescents into the tightly clenched meat of his palms. He felt like a coiled spring, ready to release all of the tension he felt in one fell swoop, it didn't matter how or on who.  


He needed to get the fuck out of here, now, before he did something he might regret.  


"Galahad! Eggsy, come back here!"  


He shook off Merlin's hand as he tried to stop him from passing, heading for the exit which would take him down to the tailor shop and out onto the streets of London. He needed to get some air, hell, maybe even bum a fag off of someone and take a drag. He needed a fuckin' drink, too, and a pint just wouldn't cut it.  


He marched at a brisk pace down the sidewalk, heading for the nearest kiosk to buy himself some cheap liquor and a pack of cigs, smiling wryly at what he must've looked like to the cashier - a posh bloke stomping in and demanding their cheapest vodka an hour before noon. He was aware he might have been followed out of HQ, but he didn't give enough of a fuck in that moment to try and shake any potential pursuers or Merlin's fuckin' camera-hacking skills. If they wanted to see him get pissed in the middle of the day, fuckin' let 'em.  


Once the liqour was bought and a lit fag rested between his lips, he headed for the nearest place where he could sit down and drink in fuckin' peace.  


And that's how Harry _fuckin'_ Hart found him.

  
Piss drunk and pissed off, sitting on an abandoned swing in a residential area that obviously hadn't seen any children in a long fuckin' time.  


He took a long swig as Harry sat down on the other swing, Eggsy nearly falling off the fuckin' thing from how drunk he was. The anger was still so fuckin' raw inside him and he felt like he owed the older bloke a broken nose for putting him through all that pain, but even drunk, he was still aware enough to know he'd regret doing that in the morning.  


If there was one thing he never wanted to see again, it was Harry _fuckin'_ Hart's blood being spilled with words still left unsaid between them.  


If a passerby had happened to look, they would probably have looked like a father and son having a row. Both were looking at the ground, clearly awkward and angry - though with themselves or with the other would be anybody's guess. They sat like that for a while, the tense silence stretching between them like a chord, both of them waiting for the other to finally fuckin' snap it already, when...

  
At last, Harry sighed deeply.

  
"I've fucked up a great many things in my life, Eggsy..."

  
Eggsy raised his bottle in a silent toast to that and took another swig. Damn right, if what Harry's said about his father's death was true. Through the drunken haze, he vaguely acknowledged how hurtful that thought was to the both of them, but he couldn't be arsed to do more than shrug it off. He almost fell off the swing again.

  
"I... I'd understand if you held that against me, now."

  
He squinted over at Harry, wondering what the fuck was going through the posh bastard's head. As if he could ever hate him - he fuckin' saved Eggsy, his sister's and his mum's bloody lives. It was Eggsy who was the fuckin' cock-up here. He couldn't even shoot a fuckin' dog, and then Harry _fuckin'_ Hart went and bloody fuckin' died and--- oh, right. He didn't.

  
The more he thought about it, he really, really should've seen it coming. Valentine didn't even fuckin' look where he was shooting, for fuck's sake.

  
"But Merlin told me how... distraught... you were, when I was... and I..."

  
He watched as Harry fuckin' Hart started bloody _fidgeting with his cufflinks_ , and boy, was he fuckin' drunk, because he shouldn't be finding anything about Harry _fuckin'_ Hart adorable. He was twice Eggsy's age and a grown man. He raised an eyebrow and gestured at Harry to finish the sentence.

  
"I thought you deserved an apology."

  
Eggsy couldn't have held back the huff of derisive laughter if he'd tried.

  
"For what? Bein' fuckin' shot in the 'ead?"

  
His words were less slurred than he thought they would be, which he counted as a small victory on his part. He considered taking another swig, but got distracted when Harry seemed to almost slump on his swing. But, a gentleman doesn't slump, does he?

  
"That, and among other things."

  
Eggsy considered the man next to him for a moment. It was weird, so weird, to see Harry _fuckin'_ Hart look so guilty. It made Eggsy want to snap him out of it, 'cause it didn't sit right with him to see his mentor so down in the pits. He angled his body towards Harry, swaying but managing not to fall, and tried his hardest to make eyecontact with him, even as his vision swam and blurred a bit at the edges. It was important Harry got what he was gonna say to him.

  
"One of those thing's my dad, right?"

  
Harry didn't meet his eyes as he gave a single, stiff nod, clenching his jaw as if bracing himself for what Eggsy would say next. He wished he could bring himself to hit Harry over the fuckin' head with his bottle, the posh git.

  
"'Cause that wasn't your fault, 'arry. Even if it was, you made it up to us, me and me mum both, when you came back an' fixed everythin'."

  
Harry blinked, clearly not expecting Eggsy to say that. Finally, bespectacled brown turned to meet glazed blue, and Eggsy smiled at him, still pissed off with the bloody git next to him, but now for entirely different reasons. He really should've seen this coming, y'know, the whole Heroic BSOD thing. Just like in a fuckin' movie, where the hero does something he thinks is all his fault and proceeds to spend half the fuckin' movie lamenting about it...

  
'Cause that's what Harry Hart was to him, wasn't it? His very own god damned over-dramatic hero.

  
"You saved our lives, y'know? I could've been rottin' in jail right now, but I'm not, 'cause you came when I called you for help."

  
He dropped off the swing, ungracefully falling to his knees in the gravel, which smelled like cat-piss and dust. Harry made to get up, ready to help Eggsy stand, but he batted Harry's hands away in favor of scooching closer and placing his hands on the older man's thighs, forcing Harry to sit back down and leaning into his mentor's personal space. His vision tunneled, Eggsy's drunken mind drinking in the sight of Harry, his hero, alive and well and still wearing that god damn guilty look on his face. He could feel Harry's breath ghosting over his cheeks, a warm contrast to the mild chill of the air around them. He felt a little dizzy and flushed from the sudden movement - and it was from the movement, right? Man, he might've had a bit too much of that vodka...

  
"Mum and I could've had our throats slit by Dean that day in the kitchen, but you stopped him."

  
He felt as much as he saw Harry tense, though whether it was because of how close they were in this position or from what he was saying was beyond Eggsy at this point. He was starting to feel drowsy, but he couldn't pass out yet. He needed to tell Harry this, he needed Harry _fuckin'_ Hart to get it through his blessedly thick skull that if anyone had some apologizing to do, it was Eggsy.

  
"You gave me the chance to become a Kingsman, an' I fuckin' _blew it_ , an' I nearly got killed by Dean _again_ , but you stopped me."

  
He almost couldn't get the next words out, as a veritable clusterfuck of emotions erupted inside him at the memories of his and Harry's last conversation before the older man left for Kentucky. He felt it all come out of him in a rush, a tidal wave of words to match the turmoil inside of him.

  
"I fuckin' blew it, an' you were so disappointed in me, an' then you left and got shot, an' all I could do was save the fuckin' world, 'cause Valentine fuckin' _shot you_ and I owed it to you to save the world from 'im, I owed me sister and me mum to save them from 'im, an' all I could think of was how I wish _you_ could be there afterwards, not Merlin or Roxy, _you_ , to tell me you were proud of what I'd done and _you weren't, you were dead, 'arry, fuckin' dead an' I couldn't do shit but watch it happen on your fuckin' laptop!"_

  
He didn't mean to raise his voice at that last bit, but it felt good to let it all out. All the pain, all the anger, all the guilt he had felt for being a failure in the eyes of the only person he had truly wanted to be respected by and the loss, the fuckin' loss, which had hit him like a freight train after the mission was done and they'd all been sitting in the plane on their way back to London.

  
He didn't realize he had started crying until he felt Harry wiping away his tears, a shakingly gentle hand dabbing at his cheeks with a neatly unfolded handkerchief, while the other took a firm hold of Eggsy's shoulder, at once offering the young man a comforting touch and steady support to keep him from swaying too much. Wow, his balance was fuckin' shot to shit now...

  
"You're my fuckin' hero, 'arry... I'm sorry for cocking everything up, I'm so sorry..."

  
Eggsy's voice sounded broken even to himself, but dimly he thought that was okay for now, 'cause Harry's smile was a bit broken too. At least he was getting through to him - that fuckin' look of guilt had diminished a bit, giving way to mix with something else, a warmth in Harry's eyes which Eggsy was too tired to try and put a name to just yet...

  
Fuckin' hell, all that crying and yelling had exhausted Eggsy. If he hadn't had the comfy mass of Harry's body to lean against, he would have simply fallen face-first into the piss-soaked gravel beneath him and passed out then and there. As it was, he found it comforting to be enveloped in those strong arms, a feeling of safety washing over him that he hadn't felt since he was a little boy and his mom had still been able to pick him up and sit him on her lap while she watched crap telly. Before Dean came and every day became a balance-act not to piss off the wrong people.

  
As the near-unconscious Eggsy snuggled closer to his mentor, Harry Hart hugged his mentée close, dumbstruck and more than a bit choked up to know just how much he meant to Eggsy Unwin, the young man who became the finest Kingsman he could've ever asked for, the punk-arse kid who had saved the world, his brilliant boy, who had thought he was a fuck-up this entire time.

  
Even now, he was mumbling apologies into Harry's chest, and it made Harry want to take him home and tug him in, so he could sit Eggsy down later and tell him all the ways the young man was his pride and joy. As it was, Harry couldn't help himself from pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Eggsy's head, so thankful he'd been able to make such a big difference to someone who had so quickly become a man whom he wanted to fight beside as a friend and equal.

  
"Shhh, my darling boy, I've got you..."

  
Harry Hart was alive and back where he belonged, and he would be damn sure he'd be there for Eggsy from now on. That's what heroes do for their boys, right?

  
To be fair, they both really should've seen it coming.

  
After all, the hero always comes back to their loved ones in the end, don't they?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this about a month ago, when I'd only just seen the movie. I don't write fanfiction very often, but the Hartwin bug bit me hard and well, here we are. 
> 
> I'm not sure of how well this oneshot turned out, but after giving it a look-over, I figured I'd give posting it a shot. It's not been beta'd or britpicked, so if there's any flaws, chalk it up to inexperience and let me know, alright?
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D
> 
> Edit 8/6/2015: Changed a few things, added and detracted sentences to make the fic flow better, corrected tenses.


End file.
